Don't underestimate the poor and elderly; I was thrilled to refuse the class beauty's adva

"Shut up!"

Principal Meng suddenly turned around and yelled at Zhou Degui, his voice so loud that even the first and second-year high school students outside the cafeteria could hear it clearly.

The veins on his forehead throbbed, and his finger pointing at Zhou Degui trembled. "How many times have I told you! Don't cause trouble! Don't cause trouble! And what do you do? You even went and kicked down an old lady selling tea eggs! Do you think this school is your private property?"

Zhou Degui was so shocked by his shout that he took two steps back. His lips trembled as he tried to say something, but two security guards grabbed his arms.

Principal Meng turned around, pushed up his crooked gold-rimmed glasses, and looked over the mess on the ground, landing on Zhang Yifan, who was standing straight on the steps.

He stared at it for a long time.

That kind of staring isn't like looking at a student; it's like looking at a thorn stuck in someone's flesh.

"Students."

Principal Meng's voice regained its composure, even becoming gentler than usual, but each word seemed to have been ground down between his teeth before being uttered.

"The school understands everyone's feelings about what happened today. There are problems with the cafeteria management, and the school has a responsibility. This matter will definitely be rectified, and we will never go back on the decision we just made."

He paused, then changed the subject.

"However, the nature of the incident of storming the cafeteria and vandalizing public property cannot be ignored just because there were extenuating circumstances. Schools are places for teaching and nurturing students, not lawless zones. The school may choose not to pursue the students involved, as they were all blinded by emotions, which is understandable."

His gaze shifted from Zhang Yifan and slowly swept over the hundreds of senior high school students present, as if giving everyone a way out.

"But the ringleaders must be dealt with seriously. Without an organizer, this wouldn't have happened. The school needs to provide an explanation; otherwise, if anyone can smash whatever they want in the future, what will the school do?"

His gaze returned to Zhang Yifan, this time without any attempt to conceal it.

The eyes behind the gold-rimmed glasses were full of calculation.

He was certain that as long as he put pressure on these students and made a promise not to pursue the others, someone would naturally point the finger at Zhang Yifan in order to protect themselves.

He'd seen it too many times. Students, after all, are quick to act on their youthful vigor and quick to lose it. Once one of them gives in, the rest will fall like dominoes.

"so,"

Principal Meng pushed up his glasses, his tone becoming more earnest.

"I hope students will cooperate with the school's work. Who organized it, who led it, please come forward and explain clearly. Those who voluntarily report it will not only not be investigated by the school, but will also have it recorded in their files—"

He hadn't finished speaking.

"I was the one who started it."

A voice rang out from the back of the crowd.

Zong Wen squeezed through the crowd, standing half a step in front of Zhang Yifan, his hands clenched into fists, his voice still trembling slightly, but his back ramrod straight:

"Principal Meng, I was the one who started it. When Zhou Degui kicked the old lady's stall at the school gate, I was the first to scold him, and I was also the first to kick down the door when I rushed into the cafeteria. It has nothing to do with my brother. If anyone should be punished, I should be punished."

"You led the charge?"

A female voice followed immediately; it was the short-haired student union secretary who had stopped the first and second-year high school students at the cafeteria entrance.

She stepped out of the crowd and stood next to Zong Wen, her tone calm and resolute.

"Stop trying to glorify yourself. I was the one who started it. I organized the girls' group, and I had the cafeteria door kicked open. It has nothing to do with Zhang Yifan."

"fart."

Another boy stepped forward. He was the math class representative, who usually blushed even when answering questions in class. At this moment, his face was flushed red, but his voice was unusually loud.

"If we're talking about who started it, then it was everyone who started it. We were there yesterday when Zhou Degui said, 'If you don't like it, don't eat it.' We wouldn't have rushed in today if he hadn't kicked the old lady's stall. This wasn't organized by anyone; it was a decision we all made together."

"Yes! Nobody took the lead! We just couldn't take it anymore!"

"I was the one who kicked down the cafeteria door! I was the one who overturned the tables and chairs! I should be punished!"

"My family owns a fruit shop, and I know better than any of you how hard that old lady's life is. Do you know what time she gets up every morning to boil eggs? Four o'clock! Four o'clock! Zhou Degui kicked the pot over the head! Does anyone need to take the lead against someone like that? Anyone would stand up!"

"Zhang Yifan is one of us! Every word he said is what we all want to say! If anyone's going to be punished, we should all be punished too!"

"Yes! Punish them all together! If you're so capable, expel the entire senior year!"

The sounds rose and fell, growing from just a few people to dozens, and then to hundreds.

Everyone is saying, "I started it," and everyone is taking the blame upon themselves.

No one backed down, no one remained silent, and no one stepped forward to identify Zhang Yifan as Principal Meng had anticipated.

These seventeen- or eighteen-year-old teenagers would complain about getting half a spoonful less food in the cafeteria, grumble about being punished for being too sleepy during morning reading, and compete with each other over dropping a few places in the weekly test rankings. But when someone really needed to step up, not one of them backed down.

They told Principal Meng in the most clumsy yet powerful way.

You're looking for a scapegoat? No one's available.

We are all that sheep.

Zong Wen stood beside Zhang Yifan, glanced at him sideways, and said in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Yifan, you see? No one said it was you. Because everyone saw what you did. From yesterday when you helped us get justice in the cafeteria, to today when you helped the old lady pick up her tea eggs, everything you did wasn't for yourself. So now, no one will betray you for their own benefit."

Zhang Yifan did not turn his head.

His gaze passed over the students standing in front of him, over their clenched fists and flushed faces, over the rotten vegetable leaves and broken glass scattered on the ground, and landed on Principal Meng.

Principal Meng remained standing at the bottom of the steps, his expression behind his gold-rimmed glasses shifting from certainty to astonishment, and then from astonishment to an anger he tried to suppress but couldn't.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his fingers trembled slightly at the seam of his trousers.

He had considered that Zhang Yifan might defend himself, that a few students might speak up for Zhang Yifan, and even that some students might take the initiative to expose him in order to distance themselves from the situation.

But he never expected that not just a few people would step forward, but all of them.

It's not about exposing them, it's about vying to take the blame.

He had been a principal for over a decade, and this was the first time he felt like he was standing in front of a wall.

It's not a wall made of bricks, but a wall formed by hundreds of eighteen-year-olds standing shoulder to shoulder.

It cannot be pushed down, it cannot be scared away, and it cannot be divided.

The chill ran from the soles of his old Beijing cloth shoes all the way down to his spine.